Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Algeria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Unwound to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Grass Roots,
Grandmaster Flash,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Section 25,
Boz Scaggs,
Harmonia,
Robert Görl,
the Swans,
MC5,
Pere Ubu,
Unwound,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
OOIOO,
Althea and Donna,
Minnie Riperton,
DNA,
Suicide,
X-101,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
The Motions,
Erykah Badu,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tom Boy,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Panda Bear,
Boredoms,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Circle Jerks,
Scion,
June Days,
The Residents,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Tomorrow,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pagans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drexciya,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.